Wal-Mart at 12 a.m. is almost eerie.
Silent save the occasional shopper or manager,
Perhaps following you to ensure you don't do anything foolish.
Picking out the dumbest things just because you need to smile.
Playing with your friend in the toys, letting go for once,
Just to be chased away by management.
Losing one of the squad and looking for her.
Wandering over to the makeup, glancing at the camera,
Then picking out what you want and pocketing it an aisle over.
Going to the arcade and winning for once.
It's not a secret, you needed a win,
Plus your little sibling will love the new stuffed toy.
Seeing a random family member.
Rushing away as to remain unseen,
Knowing if your parents find out you will be dead.
The general feeling of disassociated contentedness when you finally leave.
You won't remember half of what happened anyway,
But who cares.
Shopping at night is the best.